"Garvington is looking after her, and he owes Sir Hubert too much, not
to see that Agnes is all right."

Mrs. Belgrove peered at Lady Garvington through her lorgnette. "I think
you talk a great deal of nonsense, Jane, as I said before," she
observed. "I don't suppose for one moment that Agnes thinks of Noel, or
Noel of Agnes."

"Clara Greeby says--"

"Oh, I know what she says and what she wishes. She would like to get
Noel into trouble with Sir Hubert over Agnes, simply because he will not
marry her. As to her chatter about burglars--"

"Garvington's chatter," corrected her companion.

"Well, then, Garvington's. It's all rubbish. Agnes is a sweet girl,
and--"

"Girl?" Lady Garvington laughed disdainfully. "She is twenty-five."

"A mere baby. People cannot be called old until they are seventy or
eighty. It is a bad habit growing old. I have never encouraged it
myself. By the way, tell me something about Sir Hubert Pine. I have only
met him once or twice. What kind of a man is he?"

"Tall, and thin, and dark, and--"

"I know his appearance. But his nature?"